


Team Building

by stellecraft



Series: Inseperables [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Inseparables verse, Spies & Secret Agents, Warning Athos is very drunk and vomits during the first chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellecraft/pseuds/stellecraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to Inseperables. Athos is recruited first as a desk jockey. When he get's fed up with protecting the king from a desk he forms his own team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Athos

            Athos was sitting in his mansion in the country with bottles scattered around him. He hadn’t felt this type of loss since his brother had died in a car accident. He looked at the finger that had once worn a wedding ring and reached for one of the empty bottles. With a heave, he threw it at the wall and it shattered. He took one of the full ones and tried to drown the memories that surfaced when he looked at his now bare finger.

_He had been exiting a party when he saw her. She was on the arm of one of some marquis or some other such noble. He didn’t really notice who it was just the woman. He took on of his business cards and scribbled his cell phone number on the back. As he passed her and her companion he jostled them slightly and slipped the card into her purse. He hadn’t been expecting her to call yet she had._

_Their first date had been out to coffee at a local shop. The second date had been to a movie. He couldn’t remember what they had seen just that she looked gorgeous. The third date he cooked her dinner at his house much to his chef’s amusement. Anne had also spent the night that night. He had woken up with her pressed against his side and he couldn’t remember being happier._

_He had come up with a plan to propose to her six months into their relationship but hadn’t acted on it until they had been dating over a year. He had brought her to his country estate and shown her around. That night, when they were drinking on the gazebo, he passed a small box containing his mother’s engagement ring to her. Her face had lit up when she opened the box._

_Their wedding had been a small affair in the family chapel. She had looked wonderful in her simple white dress, with flowers woven in her hair. They had spent the first few months happily running through the fields and having sex in every possible location on the estate. He only returned to the city with her when his presence was requested by the king. She had tired of the city quickly and returned to the country. Her ability to find out the smallest details about the people working on the estate came in handy when he started to make changes to how things were run at home._

_They had been married a year when the whispers began to reach him about her. It took another year for the members of the court to actually talk about it to his face. He stood shocked as the marquis he had seen her with that first time told him that his wife had been a high-value escort. When he had confronted her about it, he found out that not only had she been an escort but she also had a criminal record for prostitution and theft. The incident left him with little trust for her and it led to the breakdown of their relationship._

_The divorce was all over the tabloids. Cameras were shoved in his face no matter where he went. Anne had taken a quarter of what he owned in the divorce and got half of what his estate produced every year as alimony._

            He felt hands pull him up and he was half dragged half carried into the bathroom. A finger was shoved down his throat until he began to throw up. When he was done throwing up the contents of his stomach the person dragged him to the bed. He was woken every half hour by someone and forced to drink Gatorade and water. When he woke up fully in the morning he found his housekeeper sitting in a chair next to him. When he moaned and covered his eyes with his arm she wordlessly handed him some painkillers and a glass of water.

            “Agnes, did you stay up with me all night?”

            “It wasn’t me sir. You had a visitor last night. He was the one who forced you to throw up and then made sure you stayed hydrated. I was about to call an ambulance if he hadn’t shown up.” She handed him a card that had a number and ‘call me if you want a job once you get your head straight’ written on it. He shoved the card into his wallet and forgot about it for a month. One day he called the number.

            “Athos I had wondered if your housekeeper had just thrown away the card I gave her.” The man’s voice was quiet and commanding.

            “Who is this and what job would you be offering me?”

            “My name is Jean-Armand du Peyrer de Treville. I’m offering you a position in the musketeers. I need a second-in-command and you seem the type to fill that position very well when you aren’t courting alcohol poisoning.”

            “And why should I take this job?”

            “Because you need to get away. You need something to keep you busy.”

            “You’re right. I’ll take the damn job.” Within a week, he had been signed on and had started work. One day he slammed into Treville’s office and slammed some files on his desk.

            “I cannot watch and protect the king like this. By being chained to a desk doing paperwork. I need to go back into that life and I need a team.” Treville had just looked up at him and shifted one of the files on his desk, pushing it towards him.

            “Take this man. His background check when he entered the musketeers discovered that he was the son of the Marquis de Belgard. He’ll be perfect for a team that works in the court.”


	2. Porthos

            Porthos had grown up in the Court of Miracles as an orphan alongside Flea and Charon. They were educated. They went to school. The court had just been a better home than all of the foster homes that various well-meaning government stooges had tried to put them in. They had bounced from house to house anyway so it was better to have a permanent place in the court than to be constantly moving and separated. His mother had died when he was five and his father was an unknown quantity. He had met Flea and Charon when he was in the first foster home he had been placed in. The foster dad had been a total creep and had tried to molest Flea. That was when the three of them had packed their bags and run.

            They had found their way into the Court of Miracles by accident that first night. They had followed a bunch of beggars and other homeless people in an attempt to see if they could find shelter with them. When they entered the court two women noticed them and took them under their wings. Anastasie and Antoinette had given them shelter and made sure they had everything they needed for school. They weren’t legally the two women’s children but they were the closest thing to parents they had. For a while, Porthos had always dreamed that his father would come into the picture but by the time he was twelve and picking pockets for a living, he realized that it was just a dream.

            Porthos, Flea, and Charon had all applied for the musketeers together. Treville had been impressed with their education and skills and had signed them on immediately. They went through the usual background check and even their juvenile records didn’t disqualify them from working for the musketeers. They were just setting up shop when Porthos opened the door on the well-dressed stranger. The stranger raised an eyebrow when Porthos glared at him.

            “You want to help people in need go work at a hospital. This place does not need your type mucking around trying to make it better.” He slammed the door in the stranger’s face and locked it. He put in his headphones and started unpacking boxes while listening to music. When he turned around he was surprised to see the stranger sitting at the table flipping through a few of the files aimlessly. When he noticed Porthos staring at him he stopped.

            “I picked the lock. Treville sent me to see you. I’m putting together a team to work inside the royal court as undercover bodyguards for their majesties. He said you’d be good seeing as you are the eldest son and heir to the Marquis de Belgard.” Porthos froze.

            “Are you telling me that my father is a noble?”

            “A slimy git of a noble but still a noble. He is willing to allow you to use the title of his heir provided that half the estate goes to his legitimate daughter after his death. He understands that your work with the musketeers will not allow you much time to come home and visit him but I suspect that will not be much of a hardship for you. As I said he’s a slimy git.”

            “You know him?”

            “I have met him once. He’s very manipulative and I doubt you would want to be involved with him.” The stranger handed him the file he had been carrying. “His address and contact information are in there along with mine. Contact me when you make a choice about joining my team.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Porthos couldn’t believe the file had had been handed. Inside had been not only the address and contact information for his father but also his half-sister. She had thrown something at his head when she had heard his explanation. It took another explanation of how he didn’t want to steal her inheritance, except for a small stipend to cover his expenses, for her to calm down completely. He told her he had grown up penniless and that his idea of a stipend for living expenses was around two thousand a month total. Everything else he would pay for with his job and she could have the estate and wield the power of their family after their father died. If he had any of the stipend left over at the end of the month he fully intended to donate it to a cause that helped homeless children. He had left her penthouse and was walking out of the building when the stranger fell into step with him.

            “It didn’t sound like that went well.”

            “How would you feel if someone decided to come barging in and tell you that you have an older brother and he could potentially steal your inheritance?”

            “Honestly, I would be glad. Being a noble is obnoxious sometimes.” At Porthos’ look, he stopped and held out his hand. “I’m Olivier d’Athos, Comte de la Fère. If I had an older brother that appeared out of nowhere I would gladly give him the responsibility of running the estate.”

            “What is a Comte doing as part of the musketeers?” Porthos shook the offered hand and watched the shadow fall across the man’s face.

            “Ask Treville. He decided that I would be a good man to take the place of second in command. Have you given any more thought about joining my team?”

            “I want to stay in the Court of Miracles and keep the people there safe.”

            “I’m sure Flea and Charon can handle things. Flea has already come and seen me in headquarters and told me that if you don’t take the job I’m supposed to come drag you off. She says you’re the best possible person to have at my side if I’m watching the royal court for intrigue. Treville says she’s known you the longest and that I should listen to her so here I am. Coming to drag you off to headquarters.” The man nudged Porthos over to a car and got in after him.

            “My things?”

            “Flea is handling it.”


	3. Aramis

          Porthos had told Athos that he was going to the gym. It wasn’t exactly a lie. The gym was right next to the sniper training grounds and he had his eye on one of the snipers. The man was hot and exactly Porthos’ type. Besides, they needed a sniper and Athos didn’t want a green trainee. This man wore the fleur-de-lis insignia in a bronze color that marked him as a full member of the musketeers that had been with the company for under five years. He obviously wasn’t attached to a team or he wouldn’t be sleeping in barracks assigned to the unassigned men.

          Aramis could feel the man watching him. He had seen the big man on more than one occasion watching him. He know who he was. Porthos was all over the tabloids alongside Athos. They were the best and brightest team in the musketeers. And yet Aramis wanted nothing to do with it. He had refused every offer to team with everyone in the musketeers. Treville had acted as a buffer for him and most of the others lost interest. Aramis just wanted to be left alone to mourn his brothers-in-arms and his lover in peace. He had been the sole survivor of the attack. Marsac, Aramis’ lover, had survived but he had committed suicide not long after and everyone counted him as one of the dead in the attack. As they put it, his soul had died in the attack. His body hadn’t followed it just yet.

          After shooting a few more targets and still feeling Porthos watching him, Aramis got to his feet and turned to face him. Instantly Porthos’ hands went up in an unarmed stance. Aramis rolled his eyes and began to strip his sniper rifle for cleaning at one of the tables.

          “What do you want? Did Athos send you to ask me onto his team? Because I won’t do it.”

          “I was admiring your shot. I’m not a sniper but I can tell you hit everything you shot at.” Porthos didn’t question how the man knew his name. Somedays it felt like every person in the world knew who he was. Porthos raised the binoculars to his eyes and scanned the targets.

          “So Athos doesn’t want me on his team?”

          “I think if he saw your accuracy he would want you but he wouldn’t press you into a decision.” Porthos took a cloth and began to clean the pieces that just needed a cloth run over them. Aramis gaped at him and Porthos smiled. “I do know how to care for sniper rifles despite the fact that I’m not a sniper.” They sat in silence for a while.

          “Why are you doing this?”

          “I thought you might want someone to spend some time with.”

          “You heard then.”

          “I’ll admit to hearing about Savoy. However, I think that even if I hadn’t I still would have approached you. Even before Savoy, you seemed to be a bit of a loner. Most snipers are. Well, Athos and I are loners here on account of the noble thing and loners should stick together.” He winced slightly at his logic.

          “Did you just…”

          “I think I may have. Unintentionally of course.” Porthos stayed with Aramis in silence until the man had packed up his sniper rifle.

          “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

          “Probably. As I said us loners need to stick together.”

 

* * *

 

 

          Porthos saw Aramis again a week later in the mess hall. Athos was with him at the time and noticed Aramis hovering first.

          “There is a man standing about twenty feet behind you staring at us.” Porthos twisted around and spotted Aramis. He waved him over. Aramis sat down next to him and looked Athos over.

          “You must be Athos. I’m Aramis. I hear you need a sniper.”

          “Aramis. As in Savoy?”

          “Yes.”

          “I am sorry for your loss. They were our brothers-in-arms too.” Aramis shrugged

          “I want to get back to work. None of the other teams will take me.”

          “And what makes you think we will take you when you’ve refused every other team? I was honestly hoping for another noble. Someone who wouldn’t look amiss in the court.”

          “I would hardly be the first non-noble at court.”

          “Those are mistresses or girlfriends.”

          “I can play the boy toy. It’s not the first time I’ve had to.” Athos’ frown deepened and Porthos sighed internally.

          “I’ll take him. The tabloids can just assume he’s my lover or something.”

          “The tabloids already assume that we are lovers. If we bring someone else they’ll assume we’re sharing him.”

          “And I told you I don’t care. I just want to work.”

          “We’ll think about it.” Porthos kicked Athos under the table when he opened his mouth. Athos glared at him and got up, tray in hand, leaving the dining hall. Porthos looked after him and shrugged.

          “Is he always that…”

          “Grumpy? Yes.” Porthos finished eating and put his tray away. When he returned to the room he wasn’t surprised to find Athos pouring over Aramis’ file. “So we’re taking him?”

          “He’s a good shot.”


End file.
